54 | AUGUST 2019 FLYINGMAG.COMFLYING OpinionGAGS
THREE STORIES OF AVIATION-INSPRIRED PRANKSBy David MametTHREE GREEN, NO RED
O
ur United States government, in a fit of misguided
zeal, defaced the sacred Black Hills of South Dakota
with the likenesses of four politicians—one of them
remembered today, among other things, as the inspiration
of a plush toy.
And yet, those stone faces are there forever—which is a
long, long time.
Another instance of violent destruction, more than
1,000 nm to the southwest but close to all our hearts, was
the demolition of a f ly-in “motel” known as the Happy
Bottom Riding Club in the California desert.
How are these two perfidies connected? By Florence
Lowe “Pancho” Barnes.
The Riding Club—its official name, the Rancho Ore
Verde Fly-In Dude Ranch—was the local pub of Muroc Air
Force Base (now known to us as Edwards), and Pancho was
its Falstaff—its comic soul.
How might we make the liaison between the Happy
Bottom and Mt. Rushmore? A better-adjusted country
would have asked whom do we deem actually worthy of
inspiration and put her face up on the rock. Pancho would
have been a better choice. But why?
Grover Ted Tate reports in her book The Lady Who
Tamed Pegasus that Chuck Yeager said to Pancho, in sum-
ming the whole thing up, “$%&! it, we had more fun in a
week than most people have in a lifetime.”
Most photos show any pilot with an airplane grinning to
beat the band, but Pancho, the accomplished stunt pilot, is
grinning in every photo of her, airplane or not—delightednot just by aviation, but by “the whole damned thing.”
Those leaders immortalized on Rushmore were a dull
bunch: George Washington didn’t even cop to a minor
misdeed until caught red-handed with the hatchet. Is this
the lesson we want to teach our children? I don’t think so.
Given the choice, I’d rather spend the evening hanging out
with Pancho Barnes.
Now f lying itself, of course, is quite literally death on
levity, but in the spirit of Pancho and the good gag, here are
a few I’d like to share with you.
First, take Alan, a regular on the local airport, who came
to realize that no life would be complete without a new
Waco Classic Biplane. He got himself out to Battle Creek
and bought one. He proudly texted back photos of his new
amour, and it was, indeed, comely.
But the lads on the field realized that its paint scheme
looked familiar. Close scrutiny suggested that the Waco
seemed to be painted a unique combination of yellow
and zinnwaldite brown, the signature color scheme of a
noted delivery company.
So when Alan landed back at Santa Monica, California,
he rolled up on the ramp and came inside to fetch the group
out to admire the thing. But, as chance would have it, while
Alan refreshed himself inside from the f light, his bud-
dies opened the airport gate to admit the UPS driver that
happened to be on his rounds.
Alan took us back out onto the ramp, where the UPS guy,
his truck parked next to the airplane, was filling its rear
cockpit with packages.